


Whatever It Takes

by gfaerie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14230851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gfaerie/pseuds/gfaerie
Summary: A story of the price a young boy must pay to keep those he loves the most alive on the streets of Nar Shaddaa in the early days of the rebellion. Some things, it turns out, are worth selling your soul for.





	1. Corellian Caramel

“What is the use of freedom if we don’t have food?!” Kane’s mother yelled. The paper thin walls of their minuscule apartment couldn’t stop the sound of a fly farting, much less two adults screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. Kissy crawled closer to him, her hands forcefully clamped over her ears. Kane hugged his sister tight, trying to sooth her. If they could not afford the medicine the best thing was lots of rest in a calm environment. That is what the doctor had said.   

“So you don’t care if the whole galaxy goes up in flames, is that it?” came the spiteful reply from Kane’s father. After they had moved here his father hadn’t been around much. Kane didn’t know why they have had to move or what his father did these days, just that his mother didn’t approve. And that there had been a lot less food on the table lately. 

“How noble of you! And while you are out on your grand adventure to save the galaxy we are cursed to a life of poverty in this rathole!” The rathole in question was Nar Shaddaa. The infamous smugglers moon orbiting the Hutt homeworld. While technically under imperial control it was as dark a place you could find in an already dark galaxy. Take a wrong step and perish choking on toxic fumes. Turn the wrong corner and get stabbed for the clothes on your back. Say the wrong thing to the wrong people and no one will ever see you again. Not an ideal environment for children to grow up in.

“Always the same thing with you. More credits, more credits and more credits! I keep telling you that I am sending you all I have! But I guess that isn’t good enough for you anymore! What happened to everything you got last week?” yelled Kane’s father. His mother worked as a seamstress, patching clothes and doing odd jobs where she could find them. Back on Corulag she had had a successful little shop that made airy dresses for noble ladies. But here it was different. Running a business out here was impossible without connections. They had found that out the hard way.   

“That didn’t even pay off half of our debts! And don’t you dare accuse me of wasting it! You have no idea of what I have had to do just to survive!” Kissy was rocking back and forth in his arms, hands firmly pressed against her ears, trying to shut out all the shouting and screaming. She had already started to tremble. Kane knew that if it continued like this she would have another one of her episodes. He also knew that the odds of his parents ending their argument anytime soon was slim to none. That left him with but one option.

“Kissy?” He pried his sister’s hands off her ears. They were red from how hard she has squeezed. ”Kissy listen to me. Do you want to go look at the flying stars?” The ‘flying stars’ were freighters coming and leaving from the nearby starport.  The freighter dock was pretty close by and the way there was mostly safe. The merchant guilds kept the worst of the gangs away from the area and there was an Imperial customs office close by. And Kane had found that as long as you kept your head down, most adults would leave two small dirty children alone. It was the other children Kane worried about. But he didn’t really have a choice. He could see in Kissy’s eyes that it she stayed here it would only be a matter of time before she would be shaking in fits on the floor.

Sneaking out of the apartment was easy. The front door was locked tight and there were no windows in their tiny quarters. Child's play. Kane had long since figured out that you could crawl through the ventilation shaft into the back part of their apartment complex. In many ways it was safer than walking the corridors anyway. The rats in the shaft must be the only things that were afraid of him and Kissy. At first Kissy had been afraid of the tight spaces but then Kane had started placing treats for her in the secret passages. Odd pieces of candy, brightly coloured cloths and pictures of faraway places. The allure of these treasures had worked it’s magic and soon the shafts felt more like home than their actual apartment.

Kane dropped down from the ventilation and onto the dirty back alley below and dusted off his clothes. He looked around anxiously but found no one watching. Satisfied he helped his little sister down. Careful to place the loose grate back in position again the two siblings scurried out into the busy street beyond.

Nar Shaddaa never slept. The moon was overdeveloped to such a degree that the entire surface was covered with one giant sprawling cityscape. There was no time of year or day when the streets were not packed to the brim with people from every corner of the galaxy. Desperate refugees from conflicts no one cared about. Shady dealers of all kinds peddling the most wondrous and terrible of wares. And ordinary factory workers just trying to make it home from a hard day's work. Chemical plants, bio labs and factories for forbidden goods dominated the lower part of the city where Kane and his family lived. Positioned in the lowest levels of the Corellian sector almost on the border to the feral Undercity their part of the city housed the poor who had not yet totally succumbed to Nar Shaddaa. Here giant corporations had always been quick to make use of the moon's non-existing regulations and destitute population. They all knew that if a worker disappeared during a shift, no authorities would come looking for him. If a couple of thousand children suddenly died of cancer, there would be no inquiry. And if the workers didn’t like the low pay and dangerous conditions, they were free to starve. Furthermore it was an ill-kept secret that the corporations and the gangs had a deal in place to keep the population of the lower city in check. If anyone spoke up or tried to rally the workforce in order to improve their lot in life they were quickly found in one of the back alleys, throat slit from ear to ear. In return the corporations turned a blind eye to extortion, murder and drug dealing. As long as it didn’t affect any profit margins.

Determining the time of day was impossible this far down. Kilometers of buildings rose above them, blocking out all but the smallest sliver of natural light from the parent planet that the tidally locked moon orbited. And that the smog was more than capable of taking care of. It was a place of perpetual twilight, lit by the neon lights of billboards and roaring gas flames. Kane and Kissy both wore simple mouth protectors to filter of the worst of the pollution and poisonous factory fumes from the air. Originally white at this point they were both worn and brown from all the filth they had soaked up, probably only working a fraction of their designed capacity. Yet it was still better than nothing.

Kane pushed through the crowds, leading his sister by a firm hand. Being small could be a huge advantage on Nar Shaddaa. They wove in and out between the streets and alleys, running between legs of huge cargo droids, slipping behind food trucks and squeezing through places an adult would never fit. And then they turned a corner and there it was. The spaceport.

The city opened up as a huge shaft lead straight through the skyscrapers. It was like a giant had taken a knife and slashed a cut straight through decaying flesh of the city. Through that cut light and magic streamed down from above. A constant shuttle traffic of ships flowed both ways from the landing pads and the sky above. And there far above finally the yellow light from Nal Hutta smiled down at the two children. Kissy’s eyes went wide at the wonder before her.

“Come!” Kane called and guide his sister towards one of the railed walkways at the edge of the shaft. From there they had front row seats of the many starships approaching for landing. Like the city itself, the dock attracted all types. From huge worn bulky cargo freighters descending so slowly, they almost stood still too flashy one man courier ships zipping around like dancers with bands of light after them. Kane pointed out all the different ships types and markings to his sister. This was his oasis, where he went when things were rough. His watering hole in the desert of Nar Shaddaa underworld.

A well-clad trader’s family hurried past behind them. A steady stream of complaints flowed from the eldest son in the family. It was too hot. It smelled bad. The candy he had gotten was not to his liking. After a while, his father lost his temper, grabbed the bag of sweets and threw it over the railing. Aghast and stunned the crying son was dragged past them, desperately reaching out towards the shaft where the candy had fallen.

Kane peaked over the railing. The small bag of sweets had fallen on a small maintenance grating some meters below their position. It lay there, taunting him. He looked over at Kissy. She used to love sweets back on Corulag. He peaked again. A series of construction poles reached almost all they way down to the platform. The settings where other platforms had undoubtedly at one point been connected looked like perfect grips for his small hands and feet. Grinning with dare and adventure Kane slipped off his shoes and started climbing over the railing.

“Kane what are you doing?” his sister exclaimed in horror, her hands clasped around her mouth.

“Don’t worry Kissy, I will be right back.” Kane grinned back and swung over the railing. Below him was a bottomless jagged hole filled of outcropping landing platforms on all sides. The wind howled fiercely from deep down below. One false step and all hope would be lost for Kane. He shrugged his shoulders. Like everywhere else on Nar Shaddaa then. His naked feet found the first setting and tested it with his weight. The cold iron didn’t move at all, as if connected to the mountains far below. So step by step Kane probed his way down the pole. At first carefully but soon ever more quickly as he gained confidence. This wasn’t any different from scaling house facades. Actually it was far easier, the indented pole acting almost like a ladder. With one last jump he landed on the grating below. His hands closed around the brown paper bag with candy. Far above Kissy’s face shone down on him in a mix of delight and worry.      

“Told you! No pro...” and then the grating he stood upon creaked and shifted. Kane was shocked, it had looked so sturdy. Then the truth became apparent to him. It was a revolving grate, able to shift at different angles to accommodate various types of machinery. The gears must have rusted with time. But Kane’s weight had shaken them free. Now it was slowly tilting threatening to spill the contents into the bottomless hole below. Empty boxes, leftover poles and discarded tools had started sliding off the platform. The boy stood frozen in panic, staring into the abyss. Desperately trying to keep his balance on the ever more slanting platform.

“Kane!” Kissy cried from above. His sister's cry tore the shook from Kane. He ran, like he had never run before. The pole that had acted as his ladder down was but a few meters away. Time seemed to slow down. Each step Kane took stretched into an eternity. And in that eternity he came to realize he would not make it. The next step slipped on the steep slope he was now ascending. Instinctively his fingers quickly found the grate and latched on. But he would not be able to hold on for long with just his fingertips. Below his his feet were desperately trying to find something to grip. But an old oil can had poured over the grate and his feet trashed in vain.

Then the grate stopped tilting. The rusted gears must have once again clogged up. As the floor came to a standstill so did Kane’s heart. After a while at least. Shaking he found his footing again. And then step by step he slowly started ascending once again. A few minutes later found him once again climbing over the railing onto the walkway.

“Why did you do that?” Kissy pummeled his chest with tiny fists, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Smiling Kane pulled out the bag of candy, took out a sticky shining candy and gave it to her. As tears turned to joy that lit up her dirty face Kane decided it had all been worth it.

* * *

 

The siblings shared a moment of peace, enjoying the sweets and the sights. Kissy started naming all the ships according to her own taste. ‘Sleepy Teddybear’ was a huge bulky freighter with massive attached gripping arms that sat on a dock below them, just getting ready to unload its cargo. One of the small patrol craft the constantly monitored the traffic was dubbed ‘Angry Bee’. Kissy insisted it stung the other craft when it flew close to them, no doubt redirecting them to some landing platform. Kane wondered where she had heard of bees. There were none on Nar Shaddaa, for there were no flowers. She was just finding a name for a Z-95 Headhunter mercenary fighter when a rough shove caused the candy bag to fall out of Kane's hands.

Back when Kane and his family had first moved to Nar Shaddaa they had not been so destitute as they were now. Back then they had had decent clean clothes and soap to wash with. Their mother, still keeping her manners from the core worlds sent her children to school on the first day wearing their finest clothes. Clean as a whistle. That had been a mistake. The other children had hated the newcomers with an intensity normally reserved for the fires of hell. With their washed hair and clean clothes. With their proper words and education. Even now that their family was even worse off than the others and had moved to the lowest parts of the sector the other kids still had never pardoned them for the crime of being different. On Corulag Kane had learned maths, reading and writing, engineering and poetry. On Nar Shaddaa he had learned how to take a beating and keep his head down.

Half a dozen kids had circled Kane and Kissy. The leader, a girl named Clara, picked up the candy bag Kane had dropped with a smug smile on her face. In other circumstances, she would have been really pretty. High cheekbones, tall, with piercing blue eyes. Here, her hair had fallen out after a chemical plant had leaked raw sewage into the drinking water. And the skin on the left side of her face was scarred by something that looked like acid. She was in the same year as Kane, four years older than Kissy. And already the light had gone out of her eyes. Nar Shaddaa does that.

“What do we have here?” Clara drawled. “Have your family finally become so poor that they are forced to eat out of the garbage cans?” she opened the bag and looked down into it. She picked up a shiny caramel, a stunned expression on her face.

“This is Corellian Caramel! Where did you steal this?”

“We didn’t steal it!” Kissy shouted and tried to grab the bag back.

“I wasn’t talking to you, freak!” Clara shot back and raised the bag high out of Kissy’s reach. Looking Kane straight in the eyes she placed the candy in her mouth.

“Just take it and go. But don’t call my sister a freak.” Kane said, trying to keep his voice calm. It was the wrong thing to say, but he had to stand up for his little sister. It was in his blood.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mr. core worlder. You see out here on the rim we are so uncivilized.” Two of the other children were moving in around Kane, flanking him. They were both larger and stronger than Kane. He pressed his back towards the railing. Were they just going to beat him up or were they thinking of throwing him over the edge? Or even worse, go after Kissy. He needed to think fast to make sure they chose the first option.

“Pretty tough with your goons around you aren’t you? Scared to face me alone?” Kane taunted Clara. The truth was she didn’t need them. Clara could beat the living daylights out of anyone her own size. She was mean as a street cat. Calling her out like this ensured he would get a beating to remember. What she couldn’t do was to single handily heave him over the railing. And having focused her anger on Kane, once she had beaten him up there would be no reason for her to go after Kissy.

The gamble paid off. With an angry glance, Clara called off the two kids on his sides. They backed of formed a semicircle around Kane and Clara. Might as well get this over with, Kane thought and lunged. If he started the fight she would look better in front of her friend when she beat him. With ease Clara stepped aside from the blow, landing an elbow on his back. Kane turned around and swung again, this time at her head. She caught his arm, twisted it around and hit him straight in the nose with an open palm. There was crack and blood started streaming down Kane’s face. This was happening too fast. He had to buy more time for her to vent her anger. In his first real attempt to fight Kane fell back from the blow, placed his hands on the railing and kicked out. His sole of his foot connected his her hip and she fell back, swearing.

Wiping blood from his face Kane started circling Clara. She followed him, vary of an attack. Then when he didn’t make a move she launched herself at him. From this point on the fight quickly escalated into a beating. As expected Clara was too fast, too strong and too experienced. Kane tried to shield himself as best he could but she always found a way past his defences. A jab to the ribs. A kick to the shin. In the end, she landed a solid knee right to his crotch and Kane fell retching to the ground, curled up as pain blinded his vision.

“Stop it!” Kissy half yelled half begged, struggling towards them. She was quickly stopped by two of the other kids who held her back.

“Let him go!” she screamed as Clara just kept on kicking. Kissy struggled in vain against the older stronger children’s grasp. Powerless she shrieked and thrashed in impotent fury against her bonds. As blow after blow rained down on her beloved brother the blood was steadily rising to her head.

Then the seizures hit. Kissy’s eyes rolled back into her skull and frothing drool starting flying from the corners of her mouth. Her arms and legs started to shake like a small earthquake had moved into her soul.

The other children, not initially able to tell the violent convulsions apart from her previous bucking responded in kind. Thinking she just got even more violent the biggest bully sank his fist into her stomach to quiet her. When her cramps instead escalated they let go of her and started to back away.

At the noise Clara looked up from her beating to see Kissy on the hard ground, bounding around like a popcorn without a pan. After a while, her fit subsided and she just lay there, shivering with empty eyes.

“What did you do?” Clara hissed in panic. She left the bleeding Kane on the ground and walked over to Kissy. Reluctantly like she was afraid to catch a bug she prodded the prone girl with the tip of her shoe. Kissy didn’t react at all.

“Nothing! The freak just spazzed out!” her minions exclaimed nervously while steadily backing away. A bubbly mixture of saliva and blood was spouting from Kissy’s mouth into the dirt. Clara looked around. The isolated walkway section suddenly didn’t feel so isolated anymore. She did not want to get caught here with two dead bodies if a patrol showed up. It would mean the lowest level of the chemical plants for her. Fighting hard to maintain her cool the scarred ringleader turned her heel and started to walk away.

“Come one. Let’s get out of here”. The other’s needed little urging and soon the gang disappeared into a side alley.

Kane’s head was a ringing. There was not a part of his body that didn’t scream in pain. A sharp stabbing pain in his stomach told him the kicks had probably broken a rib or two.  With great effort, he pushed his head off the ground. A lone broken bloody tooth was left behind in the dirt. Only with great reluctance did his swollen eyes open.

Then he saw Kissy and all the pain rushed away like smoke in the wind. Kane leapt to his feet. A split second later he was at his sister’s side. Gently he cradled her in his lap.

“Kissy! Kissy!” He almost slapped her cheeks with shaking hands. No response. Her eyes were like those of a fish, wide and empty. A steady stream of slime and blood ran from the corners of her mouth. Kane pushed down ice-cold fear gripping his heart and recalled his training. This was not the first time Kissy had collapsed. He checked for breathing. There was none. With the greatest care, Kane turned her slender neck backwards and set his lips to hers. Time and time again he pushed life back into her little lungs. Her chest rose and fell against the backdrop of the landing pad where massive glittering starships streamed in an out of the city. But Kane had eyes for none of that now. For him, only one thing mattered.

After what seemed like an eternity a jolt of electricity ran through Kissy’s body as the spark of life ignited in her eyes once more. Rolling onto her side her body expunged blood, bile and saliva onto the sidewalk. A couple walking by quickly hurried past the two children. Helping never crossed their mind. After all, this was Nar Shaddaa.

When Kissy was completely drained Kane lifted her up into his arms. Her eyes were wide with fear. Awake again her body shivered with the aftershocks of the seizure. 

“Am I going to die?” she sobbed, big brown eyes boring into Kane. A warm liquid ran onto Kane’s arms as his little sister wet herself in terror. Summoning every last piece of strength Kane shielded her from the fact that he was thinking the exact same thing. And that it was very likely.

“No of course not silly” he smiled down at her. Kane got to his feet with Kissy in his arms. His legs screamed in agony back at him. He ignored them. There were much more important things at stake here.

“We are going to go home to Mommy and you are going to get your medicine. Then you will feel all better! Ok?” Kissy nodded numbly. It felt like her gaze was probing his for some weakness, some evidence of the severity of the situation. Kane gave her nothing but a soothing grin. At long last, she snuggled up into his arms. He felt her breathing and shivers calm slightly. Now was the time to move. While there was still time. Holding her listless body in his arms he forced one foot forward. His leg almost buckled beneath him but he willed it steady and shuffled his other foot forward. One step at a time he started to make his way off the walkways overlooking the landing pads.

Kissy coughed slightly in his arms as they entered the acrid avenues of lower Nar Shaddaa. Kane had ripped off her mouthguard when giving her first aid. He swore silently at himself for his stupidity. Now he had no choice but to remove his own and gently place it over his sister’s mouth. She whined slightly as he adjusted to cords to fit snugly over her mouth, just barely conscious. Kane drew a deep toxic breath and staggered on along the filthy side streets. On their way there the siblings had made their way from their home to the spaceport in less than fifteen minutes. But that had been on nimble feet, dodging in and out of crowds to make the best time. Now Kane had to take the long route while carrying his sister. And with every step, her breath seemed fainter.

Normally Kane would have chosen an even longer route. Showing weakness on Nar Shaddaa was akin to inviting trouble. Bloody and encumbered he was easy prey for gangs, slave catchers or simple thieves. It would be the easiest thing in the world to slip a knife between his ribs and rob him blind while he was bled to death on the street. But thankfully his dirty appearance and bloody face was now a blessing. He destitution was plain on his face. The only thing he had of value was in his arms. The only people likely to hurt him were the ones who would do so for sport. And thankfully those were heavily outnumbered by those who would do so for profit.

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered a damn to Kane. Nor did the burning in his lungs or the crippling pain in his legs. As fast as he could he compelled his body forward through the crowds and alleys. Several times he fell to his knees as sharp elbows and unfriendly shoves knocked him to the ground. But every time he got back to his feet and struggled forward. He knew it was a race against time. Kissy’s body was giving up, hanging limply in his embrace. After a while, she faded out of consciousness. Twice he had to stop just to make sure she was breathing. And she was, just barely. But she wouldn’t be for long if she didn’t get her medicine.

At long last Kane staggered into the hallway of their apartment complex. The toxic fumes outside, the beating and his fatigue were finally taking its toll. For each staircase, the lights in the hallway seemed to dim a little. Still, he refused to surrender to the darkness until he was home. When Kane at long last collapsed on the doorstep to their home he was no better off than his sister. He would have one hell of a time explaining how he had gotten out in the first place later. But that was later. With one last outpour of strength, he screamed for his mother. Without his mouthguard, his lungs felt like they were on fire and his voice all but failed him. Still, the raspy cough he managed was enough. Upon hearing his mother’s hurried footstep his last strength left him and the world went black.

The road home had been a long one. But it was only the start of an even longer road for Kane and Kissy.


	2. Human Garbage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane stumbles upon something he shouldn't have and starts down the path of damnation.

In the end, Kissy survived the ordeal. Survived, but that was about it. Since the incident she spent all day, every day under the covers in their tiny stuffy room hooked up to a breathing apparatus that looked like it had been found in a dumpster. Mostly she slept which was almost a blessing. For had she been awake she would have had little but the walls to keep her company. Although stiff and hurting, Kane quickly recovered from the beating and was promptly sent back to school. Twice he cut class and went home to his sister before he one day found his secret escape blocked off by a new set of heavy metal bars. Kane’s mother took on an extra job and was hardly ever home anymore. She met up with Kane when he came home from school, let him in and then locked him and his sister securely inside until she returned late at night.

Two days later Kane’s father came home again. Needless to say, he was furious. Through the thin walls, Kane surmised that all their remaining money had been spent on the machine keeping Kissy alive. His father roared so the walls shook that his mother had ruined the family because she could not keep the kids under control. His mother responded in a high shrill voice that he had all but left them here to die while he was off on his adventures. It was not until Kane burst out of their tiny room and joined the fight that they cooled down. With venom in his voice and fire in his eyes, Kane had through gritted teeth made clear that he had been left with no choice but to get Kissy out of the apartment once their last screaming match had started and wondered if they now intended to finish to job. From that day forward his parents didn’t scream at each other anymore, they just stared at each other with cold angry eyes. Everyone could see that they firmly laid the blame for what had happened on each other.

Kane himself blamed just about everyone. He blamed his parents for fighting and moving to this hellhole. He blamed Clara and her gang for attacking him and Kissy on the walkway. He blamed the very air of Nar Shaddaa for making his sister sick. But most of all he blamed himself for letting it all happen. The only person who was blameless was lying in the small bed next to him, drawing ragged breaths from an increasingly dirty plastic tube. The family tried to keep it clean best they could but since Kissy could not be without it for an extended period of time the best they could do was to scratch the surface of the grime.

As the days dragged on Kissy got worse. No, everything got worse. Neither parent spent much time at home and when they did they uttered few words. Kissy had developed a nasty cough that prevented her and the rest of the family from getting much sleep. At the dining table, the glares shot between members of the family made it look like a full-blown space battle. It was like they were trapped in a bubble of misery and anger.

Until the bubble burst and Kissy had another seizure. Kane was sitting by her bedside one night, as usual, reading her stories of ancient heroes and their amazing adventures. It was one of the few times her eyes lit up again like they used to, but this evening her gaze remained unfocused and she didn’t react to what Kane had been reading in the slightest. Nervously Kane looked down from his datapad to see if she had fallen asleep. Just as he leaned in to check on her the tiny body started convulsing as if an invisible giant was playing with it.

“MOOOM!” Kane screamed and started to withdraw the breathing tube from his sister’s mouth. She needed to it to breath easily but the medicine, a clear liquid that turned to gas when injected into her lungs, would not work with the breathing apparatus.

Kane’s mother came rushing in with Kissy’s medicine in hand. Together they held her fragile body down and inserted the giant needle between her ribs. Normally it worked almost instantly, drawing Kissy into a deep sleep that subdued the fits. But not today. They watched in horror as the seizure grew in intensity, thrashing Kissy’s body and raising red welts on her skin where their arms pinned her onto the bed. A white froth had started to form at the corners of her mouth. Desperately they gave her second dose knowing that an overdose could cause permanent brain damage or even death. Even this second dose had only a small effect. The spasms seemed slightly less violent but had in no way subsided. Kane watched as his mother dipped a finger into the bottle and dapped it to her mouth. Then she swore loudly.

“I knew it! Sugar water! I can’t believe it, the bastards watered it down!” She held up the bottle to the light. There wasn’t much left.

“Hold her down” she yelled at Kane and proceeded to give Kissy injection after injection. Blood seeped from the many needle pricks on to the bedding but eventually and the violent thrashings subsided. Left was a shivering, bleeding, barely breathing little girl. Kane looked up at his mother who was white in the face. She must be thinking the same thing he was. Was this where she died?

“We have to get more medicine” Kane yelled, circling the bed with his hands firmly clasped into fists.

“That was the last” his mother sobbed, bending over Kissy. “And we don’t have any credits to buy more. We don’t even have enough for food tomorrow!”. She fell onto the bed, crying into the covers while grasping her only daughter in a forlorn hug. So she had given up, Kane thought. Well, Kane had not. Could not. Would not ever give up.

“Where is dad?” he demanded.

“Off on one of his secret meetings I suppose” his mother spat bitterly while stroking Kissy’s hair. “Saving the galaxy.”

“Where?” Kane repeated, gripping his mother.

“I, I don’t know,” she said as if scared by the visage on Kane’s face. “He never tells me anything”    


“You have to know something” Kane let his eyes bore into his mother, demanding an answer.

“One time he...he...” she hesitated but Kane was having none of it.

“Where?” He pointed towards his sister. ”She is dying mom, we have to find him!”

“But I can’t leave Kissy like this” his mother sobbed back.

“I can go, mom! I just need to know where to look. Please!”

She stared at him in surprise, as if seeing him for the first time. The silence was interrupted by Kissy coughing. They hurried to her side and reconnected her breathing mask. She was fading, so much was clear. How fast, that was the question.

“One time I followed him” Kane’s mother all but whispered. “He went into that fancy club, the Pazaak Den, in the upper section.”

Kane’s head filled with a red fury that bubbled up through him like lava in a volcano. Pazaak was an ancient card game still popular among the more shady elements on Nar Shaddaa. The Pazaak Den was especially infamous. Many a father had gambled away their family's future on its tables. Kane had never really liked his father that much. But never before had he hated him. His mom’s words echoed in his head: We don’t even have enough for food tomorrow. Ignoring his mother’s calls Kane stormed out the room, grabbed a mouth guard and his shoes and before he knew it he was headed down the gloomy clammy street towards the Pazaak Den.

Normally a street urchin would not be allowed into the elevators leading up from the lower levels onto the entertainment promenade. The trick was to wait until one of the elevators were packed enough so that you could pass along in the crowd. Unless you looked too shabby the guards usually assumed you were part of one of the families. And while Kane’s clothes were worn and torn his mother still did her best to keep her children as clean as possible. Remembering the core world Kane put on his best-entitled face. Assume that people will do as you please and they usually follow your lead.

Just in case that wasn’t enough he complained loudly to no one in particular like the boy on the landing pad had done when the crowd was shoved into the elevator. It worked. Everyone assumed he was the annoying kid in the family next to them, ignored by his parents because of his constant whining. Soon enough the elevator surged upwards.

The entertainment section was still part of the lower sections of Nar Shaddaa. Yet the difference between here and Kane’s home district was like night and day. Here the lights were bright and the air breathable. People dressed in airy pretty clothes dined and danced the night away. The kind of clothes Kane’s mother uses to make. Un the surface it had seemed like paradise to Kane. This section, in particular, was a melting pot between the upper and lower sections. Citizen from above came here to cut loose and sample exotic experiences that were frowned upon or regulated in the upper levels. From the lower section came the people who mostly supplied these experiences, the bar workers, cabaret dancers and street vendors. There were no gangs or obvious street violence allowed here and frequent patrols made sure any perpetrators were dealt with swiftly and permanently. Nowadays he knew that the crime here was more subtle and out of sight, sampled on the dance floors, the VIP rooms, or in hotel rooms rented by the hour.

Kane kept his head low as he made his way along the promenade. First time he had come here he had been dazzled by the neon signs and holograms luring customers into the various establishments.Today he kept his eyes on the road in front of him. He rushed past a club where he had once stopped to gawk at a rylothian gogo dancer had been hanging in a cage outside a club. She had smiled sweetly down at him when she caught him staring at her scantily clad body. Her tentacles had swayed hypnotically from side to side, refusing to let his eyes move on. In the end, the bouncer, a burly Duros, had roughly shooed him away. Today the danced was gone but the bouncer still sloughed in front on the entrance. Kane glared back at the blue-skinned alien before staggering forwards. Cursed nonhumans, he swore under his breath, suddenly finding his anger again. Kane was still not used to see them everywhere he looked. On Corulag the population had consisted mostly of humans. Sure there had been aliens there as well. As maids, cleaners and gardeners. It’s not like Kane had anything against them. The odd one here and there was fine. But on Nar Shaddaa they were all over the place, crawling like ants. Hell some of them even looked like ants! Why should they live up here in the light while he and his family were down in the darkness and filth? Why should Kissy die while they lived? The thought focused his mind and propelled him forward through the crowds, head down and jaws clenched.

At long last found Kane passed the last bulwark and found himself outside the doors leading to the Pazaak Den. This was where it got hard. The establishment was tucked away in a back section, away from the main boardwalk. The signs were relatively humble and there were no windows showing the interior. All in all, this was clearly a place that didn’t cater to the uninvited. Kane very much doubted he could just walk up to the door and be let in. Nor would he be able to sneak in as part of a crowd. His eyes scanned the walls. No ventilation drafts or access panels large enough for him to squeeze through. Force was out of the question. Two alerts three-eyed Gran guards were positioned on either side of the door. Indeed one of them were already starting to notice Kane where he stood in the corner, turning it’s repugnant goat like snout his way. Kane swore to himself and slipped around the corner before they memorized his face. Once around the corner, he banged his fist into the bulkhead and in frustration and sunk down onto the street. His goal was so close yet so far away. At home, Kissy was dying. But there was simply no way for him to get in. They would never let someone like him through the front door.

As he banged his fist against the bulwark in despair in dawned on him. He had hit the nail on the head. People like him didn’t walk through the front door at places like this. He was in the wrong place. Quickly Kane sprang to his feet and raced back out on the street. His eyes darted excitedly back and forth between the neon signs as he made his way around the entire section. Away from the glittering lights and crowded street laid the service tunnels, the transport tracks, the delivery lanes. In short, here lay the back doors.

Kane knew that security would not be laxer here. But here he fit in. Around him zipped delivery boys with messages, stressed out delivery men hauling back-breaking loads into the kitchens and recycling services transporting away the waste material left over from the surface dwellers’ enjoyment back towards Kane’s home in the lower levels. That was his way in. No one would let him in anywhere without credentials. But they might be willing to give him their garbage. Kane shifted through possible lies in his head. Garbage man? No even those had uniforms and identifications, and they would recognize the usual men. Beggar? Noone had any mercy for those, he would be beaten or worse. And Kane was neither dirty nor emaciated enough. He needed an angle. Force charity worker? That might work. Everything associated with the Force was banned and forbidden by imperial decree. It would explain him skulking around the back door. And the Force had a lot of silent believers, especially among the aliens. Kane himself thought it was all nonsense, but he could fake it well enough. Now he just needed some gullible religious nut he could feed the lies to.

Working his way through the crowds Kane made it to the kitchen entrance to the Pazaak Den. From the shadows he watched deliveries come and go, studying the people who received them. A hard-faced human who screamed at the wine delivery service for being late. Not him. A greasy looking fellow with thick glasses who's wandering hands sent the delivery girl running away in tears. Not him. Then a slimy hammerhead, an Ithorian. Kane fought back the bile rising in his throat. They really looked disgusting. But the alien bowed kindly as he signed away barrels of smoking liquid with a heavily masked man. Kane straightened his clothes and rushed forward.

“Sir, excuse me?”. The huge hammerhead turned around, curious eyes on top of the eyestalks pivoting to study the newcomer. Up close it was it was huge, easily over two meters tall. Kane just realized it could crush him like a bug if it wanted.

“What can I do for you, young master?” it said in an airy voice that sounded like it came from an organ pipe. The long curved neck bulged as it talked, like a living bagpipe. Once again Kane had to fight to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

“A place like this must produce a lot of waste” Kane gestured around him.

“It is true, so much goes to waste” The hammerhead sagged as if saddened by this fact.

“It’s a shame” Kane continued, driving his point home. “Nature abhors waste.”

“That is also true,” the Ithorian breathed, eyeing Kane.

“And given all the poverty and starvation around here, it seems like an even greater waste.”

“What does the young master mean?”

Kane had figured out that the trick about lying. Don't lie to others. Lie to yourself and others will believe you. He thought the hardest he could about Kissy. About the fact that she had to lie in a dark and filthy room, breathing polluted air while these slugheads lived up here in the light. He summoned every piece of injustice within him and let it pour out like a stream.

"My master always said that everything is connected. He talked about a great circle of life. Where all things live together in harmony. I walk these streets and see the suffering. I see the circle broken and it hurts."

What utter bullshit. It was from a cartoon Kane had seen once. But the idiot lapped it up.

"The young master is very wise for one so young. Your master must be very proud."

Hook, line and sinker. Now to reel him in. Kane pushed the image of Kissy coughing blood into the front of his mind and try to force out a tear. He lowered his face and forced his fingernails into his palms, drawing blood. Finally, the tears came.

"He is gone. They took him from me," he whispered, head lowered.

Come on you slimy dimwit. Fill in the blanks. Make the connection. Kane looked up, making sure his eyes were properly watered.

"I tried my best to honour his teachings. To keep his memory alive." Kane leaned in closer.

"He always spoke highly of your people. He said they...understood."

They looked at each other for a moment before the giant snail finally got it. He put on his most miserable face.

"I have nothing, but I still believe in my master. I believe in the power of kindness. In the power of mercy." Kane placed a hand on the garbage can next to him. "This could still give another life. The circle doesn't have to be broken. One man's trash could be another man's salvation."

Kane all but gagged on the words but managed to keep a straight face. The Ithorian gave him a long searching look and then waved around to the other workers.

"This one remembered that the coolant for the fridge needs refilling. This one needs help."

"Now?! We are not done with the trash!" Came the annoyed call from one of the others.

"One thing can wait, the other can not." The Ithorian gently but firmly ushered the others back inside before quickly turning back to Kane and unlocking the garbage bin.

"It won't take long. And I'm sure we will find everything out here just as we left it when we got back." The phrase was meant as encouragement to the others and a warning to Kane.

As soon as the door closed Kane moved. He opened the lid to the garbage bin and peered inside. There was a sludge of various half-eaten food in various stages of decomposition. It smelled quite horrible. But that mattered none to Kane.

Before long the door opened and the workers came pouring out again. Many were muttering under their breaths. The mood was foul. They continued to clean up and roll away the garbage bins. Not noticing that one was missing. Nor did they notice when the time came to roll the garbage bins back in that the missing bin had magically reappeared.

Once the bins were all storage away safely in the storage room, the lid of missing bin opened slightly. Kane peered out into the gloom. Savagely, he smiled to himself. If there was one thing he knew he could count on it was that no one cared about trash. He knew that with a bitter certainty. For in these peoples eyes he and his sister had more in common with the contents of these barrels than with the people in the club. Kane heaved himself out of the bin and tiptoed to the door, feeling the handle. It creaked open and he snuck out.

Making his way from the kitchens out into the club was easy. The people were far too busy to look around corners or to peer into the shadows. There were plenty of places for someone small and clever to hide. And when the servers rolled out of the main dining room, hands brimming with lavish dishes, Kane slipped after them.

As he stepped into the dimly lit gambling hall Kane smiled at his own ingenuity. Under other circumstances, he would have loved to explore a place like this. Money was everywhere, half-naked females of all species dancing under the flickering neon lights, the smell of strong drinks and the sound of rough laughter filling the air. A fight broke in the bar and the gamorrean guards quickly moved in to break it up. The place had a feel of danger too it, an aura of excitement. Here was everything a boy his age wanted. Kane darted from table to table, picking up dirty dishes as he went. Look like you belong and everyone else will fall in line. The things he could do in a place like this.

But then his purpose emerged fresh in his mind again. This was no time to compliment himself. No time to enjoy himself. On Nar Shaddaa there was never such a time for people like Kane. Instead, like always, time was running out. He had spent too much time getting in here. Perhaps Kissy was already dead. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Seized by a surge of desperation Kane set down the dishes and moved through the room with increasing urgency. His eyes scanned the tables in desperation, but nowhere could he see the lanky unshaved figure of his father. In his urgency Kane failed to see that he was drawing attention to himself, underage and smelling of garbage, running from booth to booth eyeing everyone with a worry that had nothing to do with the dangerous clientele.

Finally, a hard hand fell on his shoulder. Kane whipped around, the angry face a one of the serving staff glaring down on him.

"You don't belong here."

From the look on the man's face, Kane could see that no amount of lies would avail him here. No way of talking himself out of this one. Breathing so hard he was almost panting Kane closed his fists. But the man was almost twice his size. Only one path still open to him then.

Kane twisted out of the servers grasp, darting forwards. He heard the server yelling for guards. The pig-faced gamorreans started to waddle after him from their position at the bar, gripping great scary looking axes. They lunged at him with their big grubby hands but Kane was too fast, dodging under tables and over chairs, leading them on a wild chase through the bar. The patrons, far from stopping him, roared with laughter at his antics and cheered him on. Before long Kane was able to evade their eyes for long enough to slip into one of the corridors into the back rooms. A series of curtains going all the way down to the floor separated private booths from the corridor. Panting, Kane slipped behind one of them where they overlapped with the wall.

From this position, Kane could easily overhear the conversation in the booth next to him. A hushed voice was streaming out from the other side of the curtain.

"...why you're being so difficult. These are the same guys who made the hyperdrives for our A-wings." The voice was strained, clearly trying to be diplomatic.

"Bah! What do we even need new fighters for?" came another deep, gruff voice. "Our A-wings are already way faster than their little TIE fighters. And I have yet to met an imperial pilot who's a match for our boys." The voice chuckled, brimming with pride.

A third voice joined the conversation, quick and irritated. "Will you stop going on about your bloody A-wings? We all know they're nothing but an oversized engine with a seat strapped on top of it! This here is a real ship!" A chair fell over and two people rose very quickly.

"Be quiet, the both of you. And sit. Back. Down!" said the first man, clearly the leader from the tone of his voice. "The fact is we need new ships. The A-wings are too fragile and don't have the firepower to take on larger ships while our Y-wings are too slow and clumsy to deal with the TIE fighters. Here! Look at these specs!" Something was slapped onto the table inside the booth.

"Four, I say four, heavy blaster cannons. Proton torpedoes, shields, hyperdrive. And still with enough power to give the TIEs a run for their money."

"They won't be a fast as the A-wings" the man named Franz grumbled. The other man sighed heavily.

"No Franz, they won't. But they will hit twice as hard and be able to take twice the beating."

Franz snorted. "Looks like an old headhunter from the clone wars", he continued to mutter.

"My contact says they are very similar. This new ship handles like a mix between that and a skyhopper," said a fourth man. Kane sharpened his ears. He knew that voice. But just then someone walked past in the corridor outside the booth. Kane tried to be still as a statue, holding his breath. He needed to be sure.

The first man cut in again. "And before you say anything Franz, yes, that's a good thing. Lots of people have flown headhunters or skyhoppers. And no offence but your A-wings are notoriously hard to handle. Didn't we lose two pilots in training just last week? And how many more have we lost in battle because we had to strip out all the shielding to reach those crazy speeds?"

Franz remained silent.

"Never mind the ground service," said the voice of the man who had insulted the A-wings before. He was obviously very annoyed.

"The A-wings were slapped together without much thought because we needed....something. Anything that could fly! THAT is why more than half of them are grounded at any given time. Not because us mechanics are 'lazy'." The mechanic thumped he fist on the table.

"These new ships are modular, designed for durability, using standard parts. Hell, they even come with a slot for a droid. I'm telling you, my crew will be able to keep these ships flying forever."

Someone rose abruptly.

"Well looks like you lot have this all figured out. Won't be needing old Franz anymore then!" Franz said, voice dripping with martyrdom.

"Oh for the love of-" interjected the mechanic.

"Don't think I can't see it in your faces! You lot think I'm as obsolete as my ships!"

"That is exactly why we need you," interjected the first man patiently. "You have flown almost everything with wings. I need you to fly one of these. To evaluate it for us."

"Hah! Me in that....thing! That would be the day!"

"You're the only one I can trust with this. And you know what this could mean. This could be the weapon that finally gives us a fighting chance!"

Franz sat down again with a sigh. When he spoke next he sounded tired. Old.

"How do we even know this isn't some trap? These Incom people, they're just, handing these brand new fighter prototypes over? Huh?"

"Erik?"

Kane froze behind the curtain. Erik was his father's name. So he had heard right before. The voice that spoke next expunged any remaining doubt he had.

"Many people aren't happy with the way things have been going lately. One of the senior engineers of Incom is a friend of mine. I can vouch for him. 'Incom builds weapons for the republic, not the empire.' he told me."

"Oh, he told you, did he? Vouch for him, do you?" Franz barked a laugh. "Then that's just fine and dandy! But tell me this: who can vouch for you? How do we know-"

At that point, Kane burst through the curtain and into the room. The table in the small booth overturned as the men seated inside rushed to their feet. One was old and big, with a thick grey beard. One was small and wiry, with beady eyes and almost bald head. A man with a wild blond mop and a powerful build stood in front of them. From his posture, Kane immediately knew he was the leader who he had first heard. And in the back, behind them, sat Kane's dad, gaping at him.

In the blink of an eye, Kane found himself staring down the barrels of three blaster pistols. All pointing straight at his head. He couldn’t care less about that though.

"Dad, dad! It's Kissy! She's sick. The medicine-" Kane blurted out, the words tripping over each other.

"Dad?" The big man with a grey beard furrowed his brows, lowering his blaster. From his voice, Kane surmised that this man must be Franz.

His father just stared at Kane, mouth hanging half-open. It was as if he was stunned. The remaining two men moved in and quickly forced Kane to the floor. Kane yelped as the bald thin man twisted his arms onto his back, pinning him down with his knee.

"What did you hear?" hissed the man holding him down, still pointing his blaster at Kane's head. Kane recognized his voice as the mechanic in his ear. His breath was rancid, making Kane's eyes water.

"Who send you?" asked the blond leader, crouching down next to Kane. He holstered his blaster and instead drew a long glittering spiral blade. Such a blade held no purpose except killing.

"Mo...mom" stammered Kane, grasping for breath. Darkness was closing in on all sides.

"Mom?!? What the?" The leader rose and glared at Kane's father.

"I say we waste this spy and get out of here now!" hissed the mechanic, pressing his blaster against Kane's temple.

"That....that's my son," Kane's father finally stammered in a low voice, pointing at Kane.

"WHAT?" hissed the leader with the spiral blade, walking over to Kane's father, cuffing him hard on top of the head. Erik cowed before the blow.

"You moron! You told your family about this meeting?"

"I...I didn't! I swear! I have no idea how he found us!" Erik stuttered.

"Ease off lad. It's just a little kid." said the man named Franz from above in a soft voice. The pressure on Kane's lifted and he could breathe again. Coughing onto the floor his vision started to stabilize. Just next to him laid a datapad, no doubt knocked down to the floor when the table fell. On the screen rotated a three dimensional model of a starship. It looked like some kind of angry insect, four wings opening and closing, each one with a nasty looking pincer at the tip pointing straight forward.

"Kiss...ki," Kane try to get the name out between ragged gulps of air. From down the hall, the gamorrean guards could be heard stamping down the corridor.    


"This place is no longer safe," proclaimed the leader, signalling the other two. The mechanic with the sour breath peaked outside the curtain and nodded back. The trio slipped out. Before he vanished the leader shot Kane's father a hard look.

"This is your mess, Erik. You clean it up. Prove that you can be trusted."

"But, but...how, how will I contact you?" Kane's father asked urgently, eagerly raising the table again and setting the chairs in order.

"You won't. We'll contact you." And with that, they were gone.

Kane's father sunk down on one of the chairs, head in his hands. He shook his head and muttered quietly to himself. Finally catching his breath Kane rose off the floor.

"Dad, we-"

"Do you have any idea of what you've done?" Erik spat at Kane, a look of pure loathing on his face. Kane flinched away from his father, back towards the floor. At that very moment, the curtains to the booth flew open, revealing two pig-nosed gamorrean guards. Behind them stood the server who had stopped Kane before.

"That's the one", he barked pointing at Kane. One of the gamorreans moved in, grabbing Kane by the arm and starting to drag him out of the booth.

"Hey! That's my son!" yelled Kane's father, a guilty expression spreading across his face. The remaining guard roughly pushed him back.

"Your son?" asked the server, looking Kane's father up and down. The two gamorreans stopped, looking up at the server with their tiny pig eyes.

"You got credits?" asked the server shrewdly.

"Not on me. But-"

The server shrugged his shoulders and walked back out into the hallway.

"Throw them both out."

 

* * *

The guards showed Kane and his father out into the street and the doors of the Pazaak Den shut behind them with a rush of air. For a moment it looked like Kane's father contemplated banging on the giant bulkheads to be allowed back in. But he finally thought better of it and sunk down on the street.

"Dad?" Kane tried carefully.

"Just leave me alone Kane," came the tired response back.

"Dad, we need to go. Kissy needs more medicine." Kane continued awkwardly.

"Then just give it to her! Are you completely incapable of doing anything on your own? It's like I am the only one who can do anything in this bloody family!" his father clutched the air in front of him in anger.

"That's what I have been trying to tell you! The medicine is gone! We need more!"

"But I gave you enough for a month." His dad looked up at him as if refusing to believe him. Then his face hardened again. "Don't tell me your no-good mother wasted it all already!"

"Mom said it was bad, watered down. We need more! Real medicine! Or...or I don't think Kissy is going to make it." Kane could almost not utter the words. He all but choked on them. Saying them out loud made them real. Made his sister dying real.

For a moment Kane's father stared at him in disbelief. Then he sunk down again. It looked like a balloon deflating.

"Dad, we need to go get-" But he stopped when he saw the look in his dad's eyes. It was as if the light had gone out of them.

"Don't you see Kane. Those people in the bar. They were the ones who got us the medicine. After today, even if I could get in touch with them, I doubt they would be willing to get us any more."

"Then we get it from somewhere else! We-" Kane's father laughed a merciless laugh, straight in his face.

"With what money Kane? Huh? Medicines cost a lot of money! And we have nothing! Nothing!" The last word was pronounced with excruciating detail. Kane fell back, fighting to keep back the tears. He failed miserably.

"Back on Corulag, we had money! Back there we could have just called a doctor! Why did we even come here?" Kane screamed. People walking by looked at the pair of them in disgust, hurrying by.

"I...you wouldn't understand. You're just a kid." responded his father miserably. Kane glared back at him, fists clenched, silently demanding a response. His father sighed, looking Kane straight in the eyes.

"Haven't you ever wanted to be part of something greater than yourself Kane? To really make a difference?"

Kane turned white in the face. He found himself shaking from head to toe. His breathing grew ragged as his eyes bored into his father who was forced to avert his gaze.

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Something greater? Make a difference? Was this why Kissy had to die?

"I understand that you brought us here for nothing! And because of that Kissy might die. I hate you! If she dies, it is because of you!"

Kane turned and rushed down the street, tears streaming down his face. He could hear his father calling him from behind. He didn't care. As fast as his feet could carry him he zipped forward, in an out of alleys and side streets until he was sure he was alone. Only then did Kane stop and with trembling hands take out the one thing that he was pinning all his hopes upon.

His father had been wrong. They were not totally destitute. Kane had something. Clutched in his hand laid the datapad he had snatched off the floor in the gambling den, with the angry insect spaceship still rotating on the screen. Kane looked at it. The text under the ship read:

_ Torranix Inertial Compensator Corporation T-65 prototype multipurpose starfighter. _

Kane had no idea what it meant. But maybe, just maybe, whatever it was would be worth enough to save Kissy.


End file.
